


Doors open like arms my love (Menthol smoke)

by littlelarrylocket



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Kisses on rooftops, M/M, Menthol cigarettes, They meet at a concert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 07:45:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5448785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlelarrylocket/pseuds/littlelarrylocket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is planning on a relaxing night in with his roommate, but when she decides they ought to go out, Harry reluctantly agrees. He isn't expecting to end up at an underground rock venue, smoking mint cigarettes on rooftops and kissing boys with eyes bluer than the sky and bigger than the moon.<br/>And yet he does.<br/>And maybe, just maybe, he falls in love.<br/>Or a fairly fluffy one-shot because I am apparently a hipster wannabe and have decided that rooftop kisses are a thing I want to write about :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doors open like arms my love (Menthol smoke)

**Author's Note:**

> hi !  
> Title: excerpt from Taro by Alt-j  
> So this is just a short fluffly one shot, and an excuse to practice my fluff scenes ! I also really love nerdy Harry which is why there are so many star wars references at the start (and also, ya know, i'm a total nerd).  
> I hope you like this, please leave a comment if you can, I would love to read anything you've got to say :)  
> Enjoy !  
> xox

It was a very regular Saturday night in for Harry. He was curled up on the couch of his small two-bedroom apartment, his roommate Najma snuggled onto the couch beside him. The fairy lights were on, and the white haze emanated from the television screen, illuminating the warm flat, and Harry would have wanted to be nowhere else on that late December evening. 

“Could we please watch something else?” Najma started, yawing loudly and pulling the remote towards herself. Harry sat up violently “Are you serious? When I said we were watching the entire Star Wars saga, that meant the _entire saga_ Naj” he cried, his eyes twinkling as Najma rolled her eyes, her dark skin appearing golden and flushed beneath the lights of the flat, contrasting with Harry’s milky complexion.

“Yeah but it’s been the same for the past, like, two films. They fight the bad guys, shoot lasers, and meet all those weird lizard people” Najma shot back, as Harry put a hand to his chest, miming a fatal blow. “How dare you? Lasers? Bad guys? Lizards? You can’t just-“ he started passionately, trailing off as if blown away by the sheer ridicule of Najma’s words. 

“I can’t believe you don’t like this! It’s so, I don’t know it just has the power to appeal to everyone doesn’t it? And the messages, all the messages that George Lucas is getting through, like the symbolism is insane if you just-“

Najma rolled her eyes, and cut him off “Yeah yeah yeah, whatever, do you want to go out?”

Harry stopped his rant mid-sentence to stare incredulously at his roommate. “Go out? Naj it’s like 11. 30, we’re only on the third film, there’s so much more to see! And besides, since when do you ‘go out’”. Najma flushed furiously. “We _never_ go out, why would we? Not counting the fact that this is my payback for you making me watch the Notebook” Najma shoved him affectionately “You loved it Haz, don’t even lie” she smirked, as Harry shrugged noncommittally, a smile tugging at his lips. “But don’t change the subject, why would we go out?” Harry continued, eyeing the blush creeping up Najma’s neck. 

“I may have agreed to dropping by a gig…? Tonight…? It’s not far, a bloke from Music Theory 101 told me about it. He’s playing or summat, and he seemed really nice so I thought I’d go but I really don’t want to go alone so Haz could we go? Please?” Najma said quickly, her dark eyes meeting Harry’s gleaming green ones. He beamed at her, pausing the film. 

“My wee Najiekins, my ickle fluffy Najbun, have you got yourself a crush?” he said affectedly, his low voice turning high pitched and childlike as Najma mock-retched. “Do not ever do that again Harry bloody Styles or I am moving out. So, are we going?” she asked again, completely avoiding Harry’s previous question. 

Harry stood up from the couch slowly, extending his hand towards Najma. “If we go, will you go with me to the The Force Awakens premiere as Chewie ?” He asked, a devilish grin spread across his face. “Only if you’re Leia” Najma replied, taking Harry’s hand and laughing loudly at the look on his face. 

Fifteen minutes later they were in the tube, heading for a pub near the Seven Dials. Harry having begrudgingly accepted Najma’s offer of a date, he’d traded his comfortable sweats for a flower-printed shirt and some black skinnies, paired with dark, ankle high boots and his dark grey pea coat.

He’d noticed the amount of time Najma had put into taming the mass of curly brown locks that lay atop her head, almost as unruly as his own. She had slipped on a tight black skirt that showed her curvy body, a white peasant top concurring beautifully with her chocolate skin. Nearing midnight on a Saturday, the tube is not a fun place to be, Harry thought, looking across from him to see the tired eyes of a nurse heading for her first shift, and to her right a man of forty seemed to have fallen asleep in a puddle of unknown liquid.

They got out at Covent Garden, Najma pulling Harry towards a pub tucked between a Tesco and an obscure leather-goods store. “So, this is where your boy is playing then?” Harry asked, as Najma hit him across the chest. “He’s NOT my boy. I’m here because I’m a friendly person is all’ she exclaimed, pushing the door open. 

“Right, friendly enough to drag me halfway across town” Harry muttered, the noise of the pub quickly covering any comments Najma could have replied with. The pub was crowded, the lighting dim, and the music loud, sweaty bodies gyrating agitatedly, swaying and jumping in time with the sound projecting from the back of the bar. God Harry wondered why he listened to Najma.

“Come _on_ Harry, we need to get to the stage!” Najma exclaimed, as she pushed a way for the two of them in a chorus of ‘pardons’ and ‘excuse me’s’ . They finally arrived in front of the stage, and Harry looked up to see four men. The one on the right, presumably the one from Najma’s class, winked at her as she waived animatedly at him. “Oh my god he saw me!” she screamed into Harry’s ear, as Harry gave her a thumbs up. 

He turned back towards the stage, leaving Najma to beam up at the man, and examining the other members of the band. After Naj’s Boy, as he’d officially been named by Harry, there was a man pouring himself out over his drum set, a man with a crew cut and sweat dripping by his temples and onto his muscular shoulders.

And, center stage, stood two men. One, dark haired, was shouting the words to a song, Harry only catching “Temporary fiiix” and “good time”, the man’s black hair sweaty and plastered to his neck.

Beside him was what Harry could only describe as a human Peter Pan, if Peter Pan smoked cigarettes and played in underground rock venues. The man was amazing. He was bending forwards, shouting the lyrics towards the crowd, his blue eyes feverish and agitated, the adrenaline rush and passion easily visible. He held the mic like it was a prize, that he had won for the crowd, and that he desperately needed to share with them.

Harry couldn’t believe he had been laying on his own couch less than an hour before. He let himself be carried by the song, waving his hands frantically, letting himself be free of anything and everything around him, his eyes focused on the boy with the mic, the boy who seemed to have a secret to share with the audience, a secret so loud and important and fun that he just had to scream it.

Harry felt like he was singing only to him, and maybe, just maybe, he was. 

“Wow, what a crowd you’ve been! This has been an amazing night, we hope you enjoyed it. Again, this was Arch 54, and we’re really glad to have played here tonight!” 

The man with the blue eyes said to the crowd, and Harry was surprised by the softness of his speaking voice. The crowd cheered, begging Arch 54 to stay on stage, but with a last bow the four of them walked off and into the wings. 

“Weren’t they incredible?” Najma shrieked, her once perfectly arranged hair now a bubble of curls surrounding her smiling face. “They were SO GOOD ! Niall is so wonderful and I think he’s over their…” She finished, pointing towards the bar, where a sweaty Niall had just sat down. “Oi, Niall? I thought you didn’t remember his name” Harry smirked, as Najma rolled her eyes at him. “They were good though, they were really good” Harry conceded, Najma already running through the mass of people to sit down beside the blond guitarist. 

Harry didn’t feel like being her wingman right now. He felt like speaking to the blue eyed man, preferably before he was thronged by a pair pf groupies on either side of him. He frayed a path for himself, finally arriving near the stage door, waiting for him to come out. What was he doing, Harry thought to himself, looking around at this surroundings with a bemused look on his face. He was at an underground rock gig, waiting to speak with the singer. He would have laughed, thinking this so teen-age girl like, had it not been himself in the situation. 

After a couple more minutes, the door was pushed open by the drummer, who smiled at Harry. “Great show” Harry offered, as the drummer shook his hand. “Thanks! It’s always a pleasure here, the crowd is really responsive” he offered, wiping a hand across his slightly less sweaty brow. “I’m Liam, by the way” he continued, as Harry introduced himself.

“Are you waiting for someone or..? I could buy you a drink” Liam offered, nodding towards the bar. “Oh er, thanks but I thought I might meet your vocalist? The one on the right?” He said awkwardly, because how unfair was it that in films if you wanted to meet the singer you just _went and met the singer._  


“Oh, Lou? He’ll be right out. See you then” Liam said, slightly disappointedly, ambling back into the mass of people with his hands stuffed deeply into his pocket. Harry pressed his back against the door, his foot pressed against it as well. He had just been hit on by the drummer. Shit. Harry would’ve said yes, had he not been so eager to meet the man that had managed to let him be free and careless for the past twenty minutes. 

A few minutes later, the door was violently pushed out, and Harry let out a “Bloody hell!” catching onto the side of the stage for balance. “Oops!” cried out a voice, rushing to his side. It was the man, with the eyes. Harry thought he would swoon. “Hi” he breathed, steadying himself, and feeling the heat of Lou’s hand on his arm. “Hi! Sorry about that, I was in a hurry, need a smoke.” He offered, running a hand through his light brown hair. “I’m Louis, by the way, was up there a few minutes ago” he continued, reaching for a packet inside his back pocket and nodding distractedly towards the stage.

“Yeah, yeah I know” Harry grinned, sticking his hand out “I’m Harry. I saw you up there, you were brilliant! That riff, in the middle of Chest was insane” he rambled on, as Louis chuckled. “Glad you liked it. Do you smoke? You can have one of mine, after the scare I just gave you it’s the least I can do” Louis said softly as Harry nodded. “Follow me then” Louis grinned, heading towards the emergency exit hidden at the top of a tucked-behind-a-wall staircase.

They walked out onto the roof, the cold London air making them both shiver slightly. Louis lit a cigarette and handed the pack to Harry. “I don’t smoke much, mind if I just take a couple drags off yours?” Harry asked tentatively, already hating himself for believing that he could not only meet one of the band members but also share a cigarette with one as well.

“Sure” Louis nodded, sliding the packet back into the pocket of his black jeans. He inhaled deeply and passed it to Harry, who attentively copied the motions, coughing moments later. “What the hell is that?” he rasped, as Louis laughed, a high tinkling laugh, so different from his voice on stag mere moments before. 

“They’re menthol. Sorry, should’ve told you. I only smoke these, the regulars are awful” Louis apologized, taking another drag. Harry tried again, this time letting the minty smoke fill his lungs, and smiling as he blew out the smoke.

“Not that it’s any of my business, but what were you doing hanging out behind the door of the dressing rooms?” Louis asked, as Harry turned bright red. “I um, I wanted to see you actually” he replied, inhaling the sweet mint once again, as they passed the cigarette back and forth. “Really?” Louis drawled, raising his eyebrows. 

They had walked around the side of the rooftop, wordlessly agreeing on sitting down, so that they were now sitting cross legged beside each other, their goose bumped arms centimeters away. 

“Just wanted to congratulate you, for your uh, performance” Harry mumbled, as Louis tossed the butt of the cigarette over his shoulder and into the street below, lighting a second one up immediately. “Thanks” he shrugged, looking up to smile at Harry’s expectant green eyes. “I saw you, you know” he whispered, and oh. 

Oh. 

Shit. 

Louis had noticed him dancing like a complete fool, and he was only mentioning it now. “It’s nice to see the audience having fun” he smirked, as Harry blushed impossibly more. “That was terrible, oh god I’m so sorry you had to see that!” he let out quickly, as Louis chuckled and inhaled. “No, no you see that’s why I do it. The whole ‘crowd going mad, tall gangly weirdos in the front row having upright-epileptic fits’, that’s the reason I do what I do” he grinned, as Harry shoved his arm playfully. 

They didn’t talk much after that, the only movement on the roof being that of the cigarette being passed back and forth. Harry let his mind wander, to Najma, to what she was getting up to with blond bloke, to Louis, Louislouislouis, the impossibly beautiful boy who smoked mint cigarettes after shows, the small and imposing, the delicate and powerful man who had preferred to come up to the roof with an unknown fan, instead of heading for the bar with his bandmates.

Eventually, without any discussion of it, they let themselves fall against each other, Louis dropping his head onto Harry’s chest while Harry took hold of Louis side. They lay there for a long time. Maybe an hour, maybe more. 

Staring at the sky, the constellations, the city’s skyscrapers visible in the distance, they saw the smoke coming out of distant chimneys, the random flights of birds and planes, the heat of their close bodies and the nicotine rush the only things keeping them warm. 

After a while, Harry was certain Najma would be getting worried. “My friend. She’s downstairs” he said lamely, sitting up and forcing Louis off him. “I’ll walk you down” Louis offered, rising and extending a hand for Harry to hold on to.

They stood up, facing each other, their tired eyes shining and their pupils blown. Louis slid his hand into Harry’s left, Harry slipping his own into Louis right. Slowly, ever so slowly, Louis stood up onto the balls of his feet, and Harry bent his head down a tad forward, their eyes never leaving one another. Green and blue and blue and green, the two colors the only stable thing in the spinning sky and the spinning city, both of them oblivious to the sounds and lights surrounding them, only focused on green and blue and green and blue and blueandgreenandblueandgreenandgreenandblueand.

When their lips met, it felt like rain on hot pavement in the end of august. It sizzled and burned, Harry tasting the mint on Louis’ tongue, on his lips on his teeth, his own mouth containing the same nicotine and menthol blend. Louis was everywhere, running his hands up and down Harry’s sides, and Harry bent towards him, further and further, their two bodies forming one and wasn’t it alarming how he was kissing a man he didn’t know, a man that he’d never seen before and wasn’t it so fucking beautiful too ? 

Finally, they ended, their lips leaving each other as slowly as they had joined. Finishing with light kisses on the chin, the nose, hands running lightly through chocolate curls and light brown fluff, soft breaths lingering, visible for a moment in the cold December air.  


They ended where they had begun, their hands falling limply to their sides, standing in front of the emergency exit door. The world had stopped spinning around Harry, because it was now spinning inside him. “We’ll see each other again, won’t we?” Harry asked after some time. Louis nodded once. “Yes, yes of course we will” he replied. “Are you playing here tomorrow?” Harry asked, his voice once again nervous and small. “

Yeah” 

“I’ll come” 

“’course” 

“All right then”

“All right” Louis replied, and for the last time that night he knotted his fingers into Harry’s and pressed his cheek against the curly haired boy’s chest, kissing him every time he heard his heart beat.


End file.
